No really, I'm serious

It is true that yesterday, while "helping" Brad hang up curtains, I walked directly into the glass door. It really hurt. Brad said, "Oh no! I'm so sorry." I replied, "Its not your fault. You didn't make me walk into the door."
"But I made it so clean that you didn't see it," he said. He's so cute sometimes.

Also apparently true (according to my mom), is that the crazies in Orange City, Iowa, were afraid to put the real title on the theater marquee and instead put up "Jackbutt 2." I can only shake my head at that. Some Sheldonians came to visit a few years ago and were horrified to see the Bad Ass Coffee store. They said some like, "Oh my gosh, in Hawaii you can have swear words in your name." Ugh, it's not a swear word. It's a donkey.

Sadly, Kayhow and her 1992 Civic beat me and the Sands (that's what the Mazda is called) in a race last night. I did get ahead of her after the first light, but she smoked me out of the gates. So, you win. Your car (when it starts) is far superior to mine.

And speaking of cars, Brad and I got home last night to find that his car was sitting on the launch pad (aka our driveway) with the brake lights illuminated. We tried everything we could think to turn them off, but nothing worked. So, at midnight we drove it to the repair place and left it there. The good news is that it should only be a $100 or so to fix. We'll keep our fingers crossed.

Finally, I learned yesterday that a guy won an award after he figured out that hiccups could be cured by sticking a finger up your butt and massaging a nerve. I can guarantee that my hiccups will never, ever be bad enough or annoying enough for me to do that. But its good to know.